


Meet The Families

by lavenderlotion



Series: Stetopher Appreciation Week [4]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alive Hale Family, Alternate Universe - Human, Argent Family, BAMF Stiles, Established Relationship, Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, Married Chris Argent/Peter Hale, Mentions of Prostitution, No Hale Fire, Polyamory, Polygamy, Sheriff Stilinski is a Good Parent, Sheriff Stilinski's Name is John, Stetopher Week, Stetopher Week 2017, Stiles is a Badass, Talia Hale is a bitch, meet the parents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-29
Updated: 2017-10-29
Packaged: 2019-01-25 21:30:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12541644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lavenderlotion/pseuds/lavenderlotion
Summary: It's been over a year since Stiles was first asked out by the two hot daddies he was crushing. Now he was engaged, graduating in less than half a year and would be moving back to his home town. And yet, his dad still didn't know about of his fiancé's.In fact, Stiles still hand't met either of his  fiancé's families.Well, thanksgiving is apparently the perfect time for that.





	Meet The Families

**Author's Note:**

> October 27th - Cross-Generation Issues. 
> 
> This could just be the Sheriff finding out about Stiles dating Chris and Peter or Peter or Chris’s friends finding out they’re dating a tadpole. Stiles friends not understanding why he’s dating grandpas.
> 
>  
> 
> [Check out the rest of the weeks prompts, right here!](http://tridom.tumblr.com/post/166440096409/stetopher-week-prompts)

Stiles had no idea how this was going to go. Sure, his dad was a pretty accepting guy, usually. He was open minded and tolerant, incredibly educated for someone his age. It came with the territory when you were a) Stiles father and b) the Sheriff. He had no patience for discrimination and made sure those on his force held similar views. All in all - John stilinski was a cool, understanding guy. 

Stiles was still pretty damn scared.

He had never feared coming out. He always knew his dad would continue to love and respect him, never even considered the opposite. But this? This was pushing it. He may have been freaking out just a  _ little less  _ if his relationship was any sort of normal, if it wasn’t pushing quite as many social taboos. As it were he had found himself in probably the strangest situation one could, and really wasn’t sure how his dad would react.

Maybe,  _ maybe  _ if he had just  _ one _ older boyfriend things would be fine. His dad could probably get over the seventeen year age gap between himself and Peter, but he figured the twenty four years between himself and Chris may complicate some things. Their relationship wasn’t the most conventional - most married couples didn’t co-date college aged twinks, and Stiles was pretty sure most college aged kids didn't seriously and monogamously date people their parents age, but their relationship was theirs and it  _ worked _ for them. 

Yes it had been tricky at first, could still be messy at times. It wasn’t easy with Stiles entering an already established relationship - competing with thirteen years of marriage could be incredibly daunting and at times overwhelming. But they pulled through, and had now been together for more than a year, none of them seeing an end.

Stiles figured it was time to tell his father. He was graduating this year and his father expected him to return home afterwards. Which, well he  _ was _ , but he was also bringing his two boyfriends with him. Finding out both Peter’s and Chris’ families resided in Beacon Hill had been beyond strange, though Stiles refused to see it as anything other than a play of fate. Clearly they were meant to be together and this was the obvious proof. 

Peter had already looked into transferring his clients at the end of the school year, let a few of them know he would be moving and would either bring their business with him or help them find somebody else. In turn he decided to stay on as an independent counsel for those who he absolutely did not want to loose him, and would help out strictly behind the scenes. There was not going to be the same client market in Beacon Hills as there had been in San Francisco, but Peter had assured Stiles he was fine with it, that he had been thinking of downsizing his practice anyway. 

In turn, Chris could be an independent arms dealer from anywhere. He already did some light traveling and the move would just increase the number of day trips he made per month. It wasn’t a big deal, a lot of the work he did were on contracts and he rarely took on new clients as of late. He was getting older too, the fast pace business he once had no longer appealing to him. Settling down was his husband and fiancé was not something he would ever see as a negative. 

So neither man had any problem with following Stiles back to their home town, in fact they began adjusting their life accordingly. Peter had already been in contact with a few realtors, him having the most connections back in town. Stiles was ecstatic, hopelessly in love with the two men and when he semi-seriously asked them to marry him he was a little more than surprised when both men just smiled, Peter pulling a ring box from his brief case and handing it to a kneeling Chris.

Stiles had cried, said yes without hesitation not even minding that it would never be legal. That wasn’t what mattered anyway. They were committed to each now, on another level than they were before.

Stiles had shamelessly flaunted his engagement ring all around school, showing off the heavy cut diamonds encrusted in the thick band, the rose gold perfect against the fairness of his fingers. It was absolutely gorgeous and when he found out Chris had picked it out he thought it all the prettier. Peter was the vain one -  _ clearly _ \- so it felt just that bit more precious that it had been Chris who found it. He showed it off in public, bragging about his amazing fiance’s and how perfect and pretty they were and how much he loved them. 

All things considered, Stiles was  _ ready _ to meet the families of the men he was going to spend the rest of his life with. He was more than ready, incredibly excited really. He was a little less excited to tell his own father - which he considered to be quite fair - but he knew it would have to happen sooner rather than later, especially if they were all going to move back to town within the next half year.

He could do this.

Everything would totally be fine.

* * *

Everything was  _ not fine. _

To be fair, Stiles was freaking the fuck out, but driving up to his childhood home was a surreal experience. It wasn’t as though he hadn’t visited before - because he had, quite often. It was that this was the first time he would be visiting that he wouldn't be  _ staying _ at the house. With Peter and Chris coming with him to visit their own families, the three had decided that getting a hotel room for the five nights would be the best idea. It wasn’t as though they had nowhere else to say - it was just they had no where  _ pleasant _ to stay. 

Peter had mentioned her sister had a spare room that they could have used but the hotel would give them more privacy and atop of the that an escape should they need it. Stiles had never actually stayed in the Beacon Hills Inn, so he was quite excited when they had first arrived. He jumped on the bed, oohed at the giant bathtub even as he mentally swore he would make sure the three of them used it at least once. 

His excitement had very quickly turned to worry and anxiety, rationally nervous about how the night would turn out. He wasn’t naive to think that everything was going to go well, with his father only being three years older than Chris. This whole thing could end horribly and he wasn’t sure how he’d react if that were to be the case.

Stiles realized the chances that the two had gone to highschool together, even if for only one year, would be exceptionally high. It was more than probable - with them both growing up in Beacon Hills at the same time. That knowledge, more than anything else, was making Stiles the most nervous. Chris said he didn’t remember John, which was  _ good,  _ but it didn’t mean that John wouldn’t remember Chris. 

So yes, Stiles was a little scared. He was all his dad had left, really, and Stiles wasn’t sure if all the  _ ’i can’t wait to show your significant other my gun collection’ _ was a dad joke or his father being series. Either way a part of Stiles was certain at least  _ one _ of his boyfriend’s were going to be shot tonight no matter what. 

He tried telling himself nothing was going to go wrong the entire walk up the driveway. Chris was carrying a bottle of old,  _ expensive  _ whisky and Peter held a cacti - which was apparently an appropriate housewarming gift for a single man nearing fifty. Stiles himself held nothing, too busy wringing his hands nervously together, twirling his as he so often did. The motion usually left him reassured, calm in a way not much else did. Now though it felt restricting, too tight and too hot and too  _ much _ . 

It didn’t matter anymore, since the door was swinging open and his dad was standing there - dark jeans and worn out BHSD hoodie. He looked older - as he did every time Stiles came to visit - but strong, wide shoulders and heavy stance. He was an opposing man, Stiles knew that, but he was  _ dad _ . He was tight hugs and pancake mornings and  _ home _ . 

And Stiles was pulling him close before he even realized he had moved, sinking into his father's hold there on the front step. It felt so good to be wrapped up in his arms. He felt safe in a way he associated with being  young, when his dad was larger than life and everything he ever wanted to be. His father was still most of his world, would always be one of the most important people in his life, despite where either were living.

He pulled back, blinking hard against the wetness of his eyes and he laughed, hugging his dad tight once more before taking a half step back, and smiling.

“Nice ring, son. Something you want to tell me?” John asked staring hard behind him and Stiles was  _ almost _ surprised it was the first thing the man said. He had always known how perceptive his dad was, you weren’t a Sheriff for  _ multiple _ terms without being good at your job. 

For his part Stiles just shrugged sheepishly, pushing his father back into his house, settling him onto the couch. He got Peter and Chris in, dropped the alcohol and plant off at the kitchen, taking a few moments to steady himself. When he made his way back into the living room Peter and Chris were sitting close on the loveseat, his father on the couch instead of his usual arm chair.

Stiles settled himself down next to his dad, taking another deep breath before jumping into some sort of explanation. He talked about the last year and a bit, beginning with his embarrassing flirtation with the two older men. He delved into their courtship, the dates they went on and the time they spent getting to know each other before anything turned physical. How Stiles had moved in at the beginning of the semester, that being the whole reason he left for school nearly an entire month early.

He talked about their plans for the future, the engagement - again shamelessly showing off his ring - and then he waited. He watched his father the whole time, saw the man carefully processing the information then watched as he struggled to find the right words. Stiles wasn’t sure there  _ were _ right words, but his dad seemed determined to find them. When he did finally talk it was somber and not at all what he had been expecting.

“Son, I can’t really say I’m surprised you ended up with someone older. Am I surprised you ended up with  _ two _ older men, whom were  _ married first _ ? Yes. I can honestly say that’s something I never could have prepared myself for. But you, you grew up  _ so early. _ And yes, I know,  _ I know  _ most of that was my fault, that I didn’t give you a choice. And you have to know how much I love you for keeping us going when, when -” John cut himself off then, taking a deep breath and closing his eyes. Stiles’ own were shinning, never expecting his dad to say, well  _ any _ of that. The two years after his mom died were something they just didn’t talk about. 

“I just, I knew this would happen. Like I said, did I expect you to get engaged to a married couple - which frankly I am still so confused how that works? no. Did I expect you to get engaged to someone much older?  _ Yes _ . You were always far too mature for your age, even now. I don’t - I don’t know how much I  _ like _ it, but I do accept it.” He pulled Stiles close then and the boy went willingly, trying in vain to hide his tears. 

“ _ I love you. _ ” His dad muttered into his shoulder, holding him even closer.

“And you two,” John said sternly, glaring at the two men on the other side of the room, “I have been a Sheriff for nearly eleven years. That means I know how to kill you and make sure no one even  _ suspects _ I had anything to do with it. Your bodies will never be found and I will never be charged.”

“Yes’sir,” Chris muttered, and Stiles giggled the slightest at his fiancé addressing his dad so formally, even with the slight age difference.

“I love you, daddy,” Stiles said thickly, hugging all the tighter

* * *

Stiles was in a suit.

He was in a suit and he was not happy about it. Stiles was twenty one. He was an art major who worked in a coffee shop part time to help cover what his scholarship didn’t. He wasn’t used to dressing up or picking out proper formal wear. For him dressing up was wearing jeans that didn’t have paint or clay on them -  _ not slacks and a blazer _ ! His shirt was one he had picked out, a black and white design. The collar hit a little lower on his neck, and it was more than comfortable. His slacks were fitted, hugging his ass tight mirrored by the way his jacket clung to his slight waist - both a dark grey.

Both Peter and Chris were wearing three piece suits and both looked incredibly good. Chris’ suit was made of a grey wool, his shirt a maroon plaid. His usual thick beard was trimmed short and neat and Stiles  _ hated _ it, no longer being able to run his fingers through the course hairs. Peter’s suit was also grey - because apparently picking a central colour to focus their outfits around was important - though his had thin, white stripes lining his jacket and slacks. His shirt and tie were both white and his usual all over stubble was trimmed into a neat goatee. 

They were standing in front of Chris’ family home - more like  _ mansion  _ \- and Stiles was having trouble keeping his jaw from dropping open. He knew that the business Chris ran had been a family one, one that he had fully taken over once his father retired. He had also heard about the changes Chris had made, all but rebranding the entire business, cleaning it up and making it into something to be proud. He had heard a lot of this from his dad as well and hadn’t made the connection for an embarrassingly long time. 

Stiles was on Peter’s arm, hand deftly tucked against the man's elbow. Chris himself was carrying a bottle of wine and an entirely too-large bouquet of flowers that they had stopped to pick up. Stiles was surprised that Chris had ordered flowers in advance, never knowing the man to do so before, but figured it was just a family thing. 

Stiles took a deep breath when Chris knocked, Peter sending him an amused look as he grabbed Chris now-free hand in his own, linking their fingers together.  _ This _ was familiar. They often walked through town linked in this way, both men linking their hands with Stiles hanging off either arm, sometimes tucked into a shoulder, arm around his neck. It helped to make him a little more settled, enough that when a tall,  _ intense _ looking woman opened the door he didn’t squeal like he wanted to.

She grandly swept a hand to the side not saying anything as she retreated back into the room, the three men following behind her. 

“I see you invited Peter, once again.” Stiles heard a woman say. He was hanging off of Peter, still looking around the room with wide eyes. 

“Well yes Mother, he is my  _ husband _ . Has been for thirteen years now.” Chris muttered, his voice gruff. 

“Right well, nothing is forever, dear.” She said, her voice sounding incredibly too hopeful even for Stiles.

A younger women swept into the room, looking around Peter’s age. She stood strong, not as tall as the other lady but just as commanding. Her face was sharp lines and mean features and Peter tensed beside him. 

“Mother, do not be to cruel to him, would you?” The woman said, sauntering over and pulling Chris into a hug. It was quick and chaste, a familiarity that screamed familial. Stiles assumed the woman must be Chris’ sister from it alone, figuring the other woman to be Chris’ mother.

He was trying to work up the nerve to introduce himself, to say  _ something _ . But it was hard. Stiles knew none of these peoples names, hazily remembering that Chris’ sister’s started with a ‘K’. Aside from that he knew next to nothing. He had respected the man when he said he didn't want to talk about it, refusing to push Chris to talk about his family. Stiles hardly talked about his mother after all, and even Peter had a sore spot in his sister.

He just didn’t want to be rude. It didn’t seem like enough that he let Peter dress him up. These women put off airs of power and superiority, constantly looking down at everything, every _ one _ in front of them. They were both dressed impeccably well, and Stiles knows if he had worn what he wanted he probably wouldn’t have been allowed inside. He felt under done, like he was incapable of measuring up.

A soft bell rang throughout the house and both women perk up, sending harsh glares Stiles’ way when the Chris turns from them and focuses his attention on the boy, “That was the bell for dinner.”

Stiles just nodded, not quite comprehending that his fiancé came from - what seemed to be -  _ lots  _ of old money. It was bizarre, to see the man so uptight. He was standing far straighter than usual, his face carefully blank of  _ anything _ Stiles could use to get a read of what was happening. So far no one had even glanced at him, neither woman welcoming towards Peter, either.

Surprisingly being ignored wasn’t even the worst part of his night. They had made it to the dining room no problem, the over large table still holding far too many seats for the small assembly. It was quiet well food was being served, small talk being made during the appetizers. A round of introductions took place once everything was served, though still no one made any effort to talk directly to him, other than Peter who’d been whispering in his ear the whole night. Stiles was pretty sure it had more to do with how Peter would brush his lips against the boy's ear, lean in close with seemingly no care for their audience. 

Stiles had yet to be spoken too, which was a-okay with the boy. He was still watching with wide eyes as  _ servers _ carried out his food and his drinks. It was as bizarre experience, sitting in someone's home and being waited on by a separate group of people, by  _ workers _ . It was weird how comfortable Chris was with it all while Stiles was still trying to guess which fork he should use first. He truly hadn’t known Chris came from a background such as this, and it was rather shocking to find out.

The first time he’s included in the conversation happens halfway through dinner. Chris seemed to talk about as little as possible, constantly redirecting the conversation and out right refusing to answer some questions. Peter hadn’t been spoken to much either and when he did returned everything with some sort of clever insult that was often left unnoticed. 

“So,” Chris’ father began, “ _ What _ exactly are you?”   
Stiles saw Chris jaw clench in anger, Peter’s hand grasping firmly high on his thigh. Stiles for his part smiled softly, casting a long glance at the two men next to him. He had spent far too much of his life being bullied to let petty insults given by an old man bother him. Instead he sighed slightly, trying to keep down the huge smile he could full tugging at his lips, “Oh, I’m their fiancé.”

He didn’t bite down on his smile while Kate - as he had learned - choked on her sip of wine, rather letting his glee show. It was almost as funny as watching the way Gerard’s face turned slowly red. Peter obviously found it funny too, if his loud snort was anything to go by.

Stiles look up at shyly, holding his hand out towards Aliza - the woman at her mouth hanging open and eyes wide - and said, “Don’t you just  _ love _ the ring! Chris picked it out all by himself!”

“Christopher!” His mother exclaimed, raising her glare to her son. He didn’t back down, Stiles noted, but did turn his body more towards them, and Stiles could see his and Peter’s hand tangling together under the table.

“Yes, mother?”

“What were you thinking? First you married  _ that _ ,” The woman spat, glaring hard at Peter, “Then, then you find some, some  _ whore _ and-”

“Wait a minute!” Stiles cut in, turning in his seat to face his finacé’s and dramatically announced, “If I’m a whore, why am I not being paid for all the sex we have!”

Peter outright laughed at that, a loud barking noise as the man relaxed in his seat. Chris was still staring at him, though Stiles was pleased to note he just looked amused, nothing hinted that he was upset. The others at the table just stared with wide eyes, Aliza and Kate both looking completely taken aback though Gerard’s face had yet to change.

“What a,” Gerard began, studying the boy carefully, “Distasteful comment to make.”

Stiles just grinned sharply, remaining eye contact until the older man looked away. Stiles smiling winningly at the table and continued to eat his chicken.

* * *

Stiles was trying his very best not to limp even as he glared hard at the back of his faincé’s backs. He was a half step behind them staring murderously at the two in front of him. He was firm in his belief that this was  _ their  _ fault. He had not been the one to return to the hotel room and throw the other down onto the bed and he most certainly did  _ not _ double penetrate himself! He was beyond sore, his thighs still slightly shaking as he tried to walk. 

He was thankful he didn’t need to dress up for this meal, rather wearing a far more casual outfit. His jeans were rather tight, though his shirt - that he had stolen from Peter - hung loosely off his frame, the low v-neck showing off his new necklace of bruises, teeth intents still visible for some. He was only comforted by Chris’ cardigan, the thing several sizes too big. It was like wearing a cloud and Stiles would never get over how much he loved that one piece of clothing. 

He tugged it tighter around himself now, grimacing a little at the discomfort in his backside. He wasn’t exactly mad, was hard to be when the two men of whom he focused his displeasure had rung four orgasms out of him, leaving him in a blissed out half aware state before either of them finished. So he wasn’t  _ really _ annoyed, just gently agitated that they insisted he go out after having  _ both of them inside him. _

He just hoped the Hales had comfortable couches. 

He made his way into the house behind the two, looking around carefully. The home was also rather grand - though nothing close to what Chris’ family lived in. It was also decorated in opposites of the other home. While the Argent house had been beautiful, furniture pieces appeared to be more for show than actual use, the Hale home was comfortable, warm and incredibly welcoming. 

Peter turned to look at him, a tight smile on his face. He had been stressed all morning though had done a commendable job at not showing it, although there were only so many times one man could repack his suitcase before it became obvious how he was feeling. Stiles smiled back warmly, tucking himself against the man's side - feeling needy in his soreness. The man just chuckled, letting Stiles burry closer and the boy smiled, detangling himself to grab a quick hug from Chris before taking the man's hand.

“Onward, my good sir!” Stiles announced, grinning playfully at the two men, smiling widely when he saw Peter relax. 

“Well, this will be interesting.” Peter mumbled, smiling warmly at his two men. 

Before Stiles got a chance to say anything a familiar voice shouted out  _ ”Stiles?!” _ and he was whipping his head around, eyes immediately finding Cora’s as he let out a laugh, grinning widely at her. 

“What are you  _ doing _ here?” She asked coming to stand closer to them, her eyes darting between the three.. 

“Uh, well, I got engaged?” He said, holding up his left hand with a little smile. Cora and he had been good friends for a few years, though they had slowly fallen apart as she more seriously got into sports during the tenth grade. It had hurt, sure, but they were growing up, and growing apart was bound to happen eventually. He never held their differing interests against her, anyway.

“Alright, that explains nothing. Lets try this again,  _ why are you here _ ?” 

“Uh,” Stiles began, looking over his shoulder quickly. Chris was just watching them with amusement, though Peter’s face was drawn with worry. Stiles sighed, turning back to his once-best friend and spread his arms wide announcing, “Meet your new Uncle!”

Cora’s eyes widened, looking from Stiles to the two men behind him rapidly. Stiles felt Peter wrap himself around him, the man's hands settling low over his tummy as he hooked his chin over Stiles’ shoulder. Cora’s eyes seemed to widen even more as she took this in, before narrowing in. She pointed to Stiles first, then Peter and Chris before her finger goes to Stiles again.

“Okay,” She said nodding, a small smile tugging at her lips, “Welcoming to the family, dude.”

Unfortunately the rest of the night does not go that well. They manage to hide out the four of them, stepping into a side room and Stiles catching up with Cora, Peter and Chris watching fondly as the two grow more and more excited, both talking vividly, waving hands in the air as they match each other's energy. They stay tucked away until Derek finds them, his eyebrows furrowing as he asks Cora why she didn’t mention she was inviting someone. 

Cora, the she devil she is just smirks, announcing that Stiles in fact  _ Peter’s _ guest. When his uncle finally tells him just why Stiles is his guest his eyes go wider than Cora’s did, mouth dropping open as his eyebrows climb his forehead. Finally Derek makes a sort of aborted nod gesture, scowling darkly when Stiles calls him ‘Nephew’. He does tell them it's time for dinner though, and waits to walk with them so Stiles figures it could have gone a lot worse.

It does, in fact, get a lot worse.

The dining room is large, the table taking most of the space, Talia - one of Peter’s sisters - and her family take up nearly an entire side, Ruth - Peter’s other sister - and her husband alone on the other. Peter lights up when he spots Ruth and it makes Stiles’ chest flutter, smiling softly at his man as he hugs the slight woman tight. 

“Cora, who is your guest?” Talia asked once they’ve all settled. Peter is sitting next to Ruth, Chris at his side and Stiles at Chris’. Cora sat next to Stiles unlike the rest of her family and her empty seat is noticeable beside the one Derek went to, making Stiles nervous as to why she chose to sit with them.

“Oh, he’s not my guest.” She said, piling her plate with food.

“Derek?” The woman asked, her brows drawing together in question but he just shakes his head, his lips doing this strange half frown half smirk.

“Well alright. Sorry, who exactly are you?”

Stiles just smirked, sitting back in his chair while Chris took his plate and began filling it with food, “My name is Stiles, and I’m your brother-in-law.” Stiles answered, trying not to smirk when Cora snorted beside him. Maybe it wasn’t fair that Stiles already didn’t like the woman, but he knew enough about her that he never would. 

It had only been a few months into their relationship when Stiles had went over to find Peter piss drunk. He hadn’t heard what happened right away, just held Peter while the man stared off into nothing, anxiously waiting for Chris to get home to explain what the  _ hell _ was wrong. At first he hadn’t got much more than Talia, but slowly he pieced a little together. 

Peter’s father had been … abusive to say the least. Not just with his words, but with his hands as well, and Peter was the only one to suffer from his blows. It had gone on for years until the man died of a weak heart, Peter sixteen but already entirely too weary of the world. He didn’t trust others, refused to let people in. Peter had been twenty when he and Chris first met and it had taken the older man more than a year of acquaintanceship before Peter began to open himself up. Their relationship had still progressed slowly after that, them dating for nearly three years before Chris proposed.

It had been hard, but Peter had attended therapy,  _ years _ of therapy and Chris had always been there, and slowly some of his past hurts began to heal. It wasn’t just that though, Talia was one of Peter’s two older sisters, though she was apparently a complete bitch and knew how to hit Peter where it hurt. She could be horrible and Peter years of therapy just to deal with all the hurt that came from her. Not only was she horrible to him but she constantly downplayed all he rent though, turning his years of torture at their father's hands into nothing more than Peter being dramatic.

When he found that out he immediately began looking into the woman, using all the tricks he’d learned from having a Sheriff dad. What he found had been - unpleasant to say the least. But he sat on the information, not letting either man know what he had been doing nor what he had found out. Besides it was also good to have insurance.

“What?” Talia asked, her voice losing its previous warmth.

Stiles held up his left hand, showing off his ring, “I guess brother-in-law isn’t exactly correct, as I’ll never  _ legally _ be married to them.”

“That is gorgeous!” Ruth squealed, snatching Stiles’ hand and leaning far over Peter to get a better look, oohing at the ring.

“Chris picked it out,” Peter announced, the pride in his voice obvious. 

“And he did an excellent job,” Stiles finished, softly kissing the man’s cheek.

“Excuse me?” Talia asked loudly, drawing the attention back to herself. Her face had gone cold, her mouth pulled into a sneer, “I don’t believe I understand?”

“I don’t believe I misspoke, did I dear?” Stiles asked Chris and when the man shook his head he smirked at Talia, “Well there we go. I’m not sure what you are having trouble with understanding.”

The table was quiet for a few moments, Talia’s children studiously eating their food while Stiles kept his eyes on his fiancé’s, watching Peter closely. His head was bent towards Ruth and they were having a quiet conversation. They were both smiling, and Stiles was sure he heard the words coffee shop in there somewhere, his own smile pulling at his lips at the memory.

“Did how father treat you really affect you  _ this bad _ ?” Talia asked and although her tone was pleasant Stiles watched as Peter shut down. His face went blank though his jaw tightened and his eyes - already glassy and slowly turning red - lowered to the table, something Stiles had never seen before. Chris’ face turned up in anger and Stiles wasn’t sure he’d ever seen the man so mad before, but was interrupted before he could began talking.

“Are you being paid?” Laura asked, her face scrunching up in confusion.

“Oh no, no. Peter isn’t the one in this family who pays for their lovers.” Stiles said calmly, taking another bite of his turkey. Almost the whole table turned to him with wide eyes, Talia’s own face contorting into something ugly.   
“ _ What did you say _ ?” The woman demanded and Stiles looked at her with a sharp grin, taking a sip of his water before continuing.

“I said, Peter isn’t the one in this family who pays for their lovers. Or is that not what you call the woman you spend your time with?” Stiles said slowly, keeping eye contact the entire time.

“Why you little -” She began, spitting her words, but Stiles cut her off.

“Oh I don’t think so. You remember Natalia, don’t you? Pretty little redhead you had about a month ago?” Stiles asked and watched in glee when the woman sputtered, her face reddening, “Yes, I’m sure you do. Well, Natalia is only seventeen.”

“Who the hell do you think you are!” She screeched, slamming her hands on the table.

“Stiles Stilinski, son of the Sheriff.” Stiles smiled widely then, pushing his chair away from the table and standing tall, “Thank you for opening your home to us, dinner was wonderful. Ruth I apologize we couldn’t get to know each other any better, though we are here for one more day. Brunch perhaps?”

“I’m sure that would be appendable,” The woman said pleasantly, taking Stiles offered hand and shaking it.

“Excellent, boys?” Stiles said, turning to an equally wide eyed Peter and Chris, a laugh bubbling out at the twin expressions, “Come now, I know there’s still some pie at Dad’s.”

Peter laughed at that, standing as well and tucking Stiles close to his side, all but pulling him from the room as it exploded in noise, angry shouting filling the air as they left quickly. 

“ _ I love you _ .” Peter swore against his temple and Stiles just smiled, feeling a little bad he just tore a family apart. But he’s not going to idly sit by and watch someone tear down either of the men he loves, will  _ never _ let that happen.

“Did you have something on  _ my family _ ?” Chris asks once they're back in the car, Stiles driving back towards his father's. He really does want some pie.

Stiles just grins, glancing at the man in the rearview, carefully choosing his words, “I have enough to … get him arrested, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

“Why?” Peter asked, looking over with wide eyes.

Stiles just snagged his hand in his own, holding it tight, “I love you both.”

Peter just nodded at that, sinking back into the seat with a little smile. 

Stiles himself smiled at putting it there.

**Author's Note:**

> huge huge huge thanks to my wonderful [friend](https://www.lilmadhatter213.tumblr.com) for talking through this story with me, and letting my vent, and listening to me complain and offering me support for these past six hours.
> 
> also, stiles' [engagement ring](https://www.pinterest.ca/pin/56787645279361953/)
> 
> yes, I know this is a day late. Yes, I am sorry about that. 
> 
> I started a new job this pack week and had to wake up at five a.m each morning to get there on time. Keep in mind, I didn't even wake up that early during high school, and I _definitely_ have not woken up that early _since_ high school! So I kind of died, and by Friday afternoon I had absolutely no energy to do anything. I am so, so sorry that this is a day late, and I feel a little horrible because of it. 
> 
> This fic is also incredibly long. I have never written a oneshot this length before and it is insane. It has taken me hours to get through it, and I had a really tough go working on it. It wasn't easy and I'm really not entirely sure how happy I even am with it, but it is done. 
> 
> NOW, I have to go and write **today's** fic! I have no idea how that is going to go, so wish me all the luck, LOL! I do hope you enjoy this fic either way, as I put an insane amount of time into writing it, LOL!
> 
>  [my tumblr!](https://lavender-lotion.tumblr.com/)


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